


With the heart in his hands

by Middleinthenight21



Category: Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017)
Genre: Damirae baby, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Malik Wayne, Parenthood, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Middleinthenight21/pseuds/Middleinthenight21
Summary: His first steps as a father.'He has never complained about his life. Complaining and lamenting is for the weak, and Damian Wayne would never be either, but he wants to have better references for his son, so he could hold him in his arms without feeling like an idiot.'Damirae baby.Credit and dedicated Deep-in-mind67 and ravenfan1242 (Tumblr)
Relationships: Raven & Damian Wayne, Raven/Damian Wayne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 104





	With the heart in his hands

***  
He had heard stories about fatherhood, men looking with love at their children, feeling that they had gained a precious treasure, could change their lives forever. They promised that they would protect them, it was like a roar inside, something beautiful and unexpected and they would never be the same again. It marked a before and after.

Damian never had that. His mother was a murderer, a cold-eyed woman who was used to every day being a struggle. A part of him assumed that she had loved him in a twisted and dominant way. She loved him the same way you treat a valuable object, she worried when he strayed from the path they had carved out for his life, and his grandfather was a man who put himself in a high position, always forcing him to look up and disguising his dominance and control under discourses on belonging and devotion. Damian thought it was the best he had and if he ever faced the world it would be for Ra's Al Ghul, they both left him at some point in his childhood. Then, his father came, who is someone who dedicated his life to a city consumed by crime and corruption, lived in an eternal search for justice that consumed everything around him, including his own family. thought it was the best he had and if he ever faced the world it would be for Ra's Al Ghul, they both left him at some point in his childhood. Then, his father came, who is someone who dedicated his life to a city consumed by crime and corruption, lived in an eternal search for justice that consumed everything around him, including his own family. Bruce Wayne watches him with love and earns his appreciation, but he will never be his top priority, just as he was not for Talia and Ra’s Al Ghul.

He has never complained about his life. Complaining and lamenting is for the weak, and Damian Wayne would never be either, but he wants to have better references for his son, so he could hold him in his arms without feeling like an idiot.

Damian can maneuver all the weapons in the world, assemble and destroy any object using only his intellect, but his three-week-old baby was different.

He had been gone for two weeks. Just over five days after the birth of his son, as he had to train the new killers for the league, which involved intensive preparation before the new recruits joined the League of the Assassins and he trusted no one but himself, but that had separated him from his family. Two weeks might not be long, yet it was long enough for his son not to recognize him.

Damian knew it, but Raven insisted there were other reasons why he cried when he got close. Still amazed at her ability to do her homework and tend to their son, Raven is caring and dedicated, in a way that makes him envy her and wonder what would have happened if she stayed instead of attending to her duties as head of the League of Assassins.

Looking out the window, the snow falls, and that morning in the Himalayas the wind sounds like the roar of an angry leopard. Damian had had a quiet night. Since it was Raven who took care of the baby by letting him sleep after he appeared last night acknowledging his tiredness, secretly thanking her, since he would not know how to recognize the requests of his son.

He is sitting on the bed drinking tea with a slice of lemon and brown sugar, it is a family drink, but the situation is different. He would be missing fingers to count the times he has had tea looking at the landscape with Raven at his side. They would simply lean against each other in silence, he would be full of secrets and confessions. He had never felt that way with another person, but the space between the two now a new person fills it.

Titus sleeps near the fireplace. Alfred the cat who had been adopted a few months ago was lying a few meters from them, curled up with green eyes fixed on the couple and the baby, as if watching them.

The room is warm, the fireplace is lit with a low fire and looks like an island of warmth in the middle of winter. There is an intricately patterned rug in gold tones that they had chosen together a few years ago, and the bed was comfortable with no exorbitant luxuries. Different from what the Demon Head would be thought to have, but this room in Nanda Parbat was a corner of privacy; no one would disturb them here. There are little memories imprinted on these four walls, secret moments and reminiscent of the engagement ring that they keep in a drawer that they never used. They don't need it, they don't have to wait for white dresses, bouquets and altars.

I don't want a ceremony. Raven had confessed after his proposal and had felt the disappointment and pain hit her face as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown at her refusal. My father played the ceremonies with my mother and ended in evil. I don't need a ceremony, protocol and jewelry, just ... need you, Damian Wayne.  
Damian had understood her, her reasons were clear and for a person like Raven with a tragic past involving rituals and ceremonies it was easy to understand her rejection of marriage, it was not a refusal to be together. It was at that moment when the lights were off, her eyes were illuminated by the faint moonlight that appeared from the window and he analyzed the features of his girlfriend and realized that they did not require names or labels. The curtains rose and the room was dark as night lit up, like a new dawn and he swore no one would make him feel this way.

Peril of hope, resonates in his head, but it is only the name of a poem, since this is very real and he would share his entire life with her. It is not an illusion, it is not a promise that was taken by a glow that would change the world, this is their future. They could be two stars that orbit around each other, finding some point in their lives.

There are more hopeless futures.  
Damian had lived his entire life with third-party plans for his life. Promising that they would bring out the best for him and put out all his thoughts of having an everyday life. He accepted it and raised his head, like a winner, but everything that surrounded Raven was soft and his life was imprinted with small moments in which he was surprised of himself, of the words that come out of his mouth when they are talking and of the actions that he dedicates. He had become accustomed to being with Raven, now he needs to learn to take care of their child.

Damian wants to be a better father.

"You know I'm empathetic, right?"

Observes his girlfriend. His eyes are fixed on his son, the baby is lying on the bed, on top of a small cloth in a pastel tone and he is amazed at how small he is. He is wearing bluish clothes, a miniature hat that drops dark strands like the tar, his skin is of a golden tone very similar to his; He would like to see aspects of Raven, but he looks a lot like him.

It is puzzling.

Looking at his son leaves him stunned. He can't take his eyes off each time he meets him and wonders how he could conceive of something so beautiful, innocent and pure; It makes him feel like a dirty person when he touches him, because he has taken lives. His life was full of authoritarian figures, how could he be what he deserves?

"I can feel your emotions, Damian Wayne," Raven reminds him. She leans towards the baby; he watches him move his little hands. Squeezes her little finger, holding on as if his life depended on it, and it seems like such an alien scene, he feels like a spy. She makes it look so easy. "It's not easy for me either", she whispers, and Damian is surprised. "Some days I think I won't be able to, that I'm not enough for someone who watches me with so much love and devotion and a person like me doesn't deserve a family" Raven adjusts her clothes. Even if he doesn't need her and the baby moans, but he is silent when he hears her voice and watches her with his eyes wide open, as if something about his mother's face had surprised him greatly "but I have him".

He remains silent.

"I was born with a purpose. It would be a door to destroy worlds. There was no other future for me, and my mother sometimes observed me as a stranger realizing my powers… You know my relationship with my father" She looked away. The baby grimaced and clenched his hands into two perfect fists as if the mention of his maternal grandfather would displease him. She ran her fingers over his palms, relaxing her son's hands, just like she did when she thought he needed to relax. "I feared for many things, but not for this. Not from Malik. "

The name echoed in his head and its meaning could not fit better, his son could be the king of their hearts. Damian had inadvertently given him a part of his heart ever since he learned of his existence.

Raven strokes Malik's small foot covered in a woolen sock "You're afraid".

He crossed his arms. One part yelled at him that this was not the case, but it was no use arguing because it is the truth.

Instinctively he moved to be by her side as if to demonstrate with actions that this was not the case, but it was useless because as soon as his son saw him, he began to complain and his mouth twisted into a grimace that threatened to cry.

He was about to get up and leave, in order not to disturb his baby. All his theories about what he considered a stranger were confirmed, but Raven stopped him with a glance and he remained in his place on the bed as if supported by a rope on the edge of the precipice.

He clenched his fists on the blanket covering the bed and watched as she carried Malik who was crying. The boy twisted in her arms and continued to complain, but now he was silent because he was being breastfed.

Alfred the cat yawns and turns his back on them, falling into a deep sleep.

Damian grimaces, wants to be more helpful and not just sit around not knowing what to do. He brushes her hair away so that she could breastfeed more comfortably. Stroking her shoulders with a massage, and Raven sighs intently at her son when he decides he's had enough.

Malik is looking at him now.

"Hold him" He almost protested, but by then she had already put him in his arms.

His eyes fell on Malik, the baby was looking at him with a frown and he wonders how someone so small can do such a thing. His eyebrows are black and thick, it seems that he was analyzing him, checking if they had a similarity or not.

He's light, barely weighs in his arms, and let’s Raven guide his hands holding his head and back. His hands are big compared to his baby, he was full of calluses and he is afraid to break him from the pressure, he seems fragile and is so small ...

"Just relax".

He lets out a breath, and she abandons him completely, but is looking at him.

Malik is still frowning. For the first time in weeks they look into each other's eyes. His son has green eyes with purple specks, as if two jewels had fused inside his iris and he is giving it different meanings, he invents theories and processes.

This is a different kind of love, one that almost filled his eyes with tears and would travel the world if this being asked him, but he also feels impure, not worthy of his son.

He doesn't deserve it.  
"He looks like you," Damian says, wanting to break the order of his thoughts. He concentrates on his slightly bluish hair, it catches the light and turns it into a bluish glow, he wants to think that something so beautiful belongs to Raven and not to him. "He has your features."

She lets out a snort that sounds like tongue-in-cheek laughter, gently runs a hand down the baby's chubby cheek and he tries to capture his fingers to hold on to them.

"You are kidding, right?" Damian does not stop observing the face of his son, but he is listening to her. Trying to find places that belonged to Raven, the shape of the eyes, the subtly upturned nose and the way she clung to someone. "He looks like you", Raven leans closer and leans her head against his shoulder. "Malik has your features and expressions, he frowns just like you, he clenches his fingers into a fist when he feels threatened, he usually growls when he is irritated. He is serious and he has your temperament", she enumerates" Someone help us", she jokes.

Damian smiles to himself, tries to find everything she had said about their baby.

He has his eyes, the elongated shape marked by the lashes is his. Damian recognizes the tan tone of his skin, the eyebrows widened in the middle and he almost seems to see traits of his father that have touched Malik. See’s how his lips twist into a grimace, he has a small mouth and with each babble a dimple is marked on his right cheek.

Raven has no dimples.  
How can someone like him make something so beautiful?

"This is our life now." She kisses him on the chin, he almost leans towards the touch of her lips and wonders how he has been able to deprive himself of this for two weeks, he would never have enough. "We can do it" He smiles at her. "Even if we are wrong, we always try to make the best of each other".

His mouth drops open as he watches Malik yawn and close his eyes in his arms preparing to sleep. He fights against unconsciousness as if he doesn't want to miss this moment and almost rolls his eyes with grace to see how he insists on staying awake.

"You have to sleep" he whispers to him. His voice is in a tone that he never hoped to ever use, different from the voices of the authority figures who had ruled his life, it is charged with sweetness and brotherly love. He guides one of his fingers towards his small hands, he clings to his index finger and is strong "You must have had a long day".

Raven smiles placing a kiss on his shoulder.

"A tired day for a three-week-old baby."

He rolls his eyes, prefers to focus on his son who opens his eyes every time they are talking and babbles, as if he wants to participate in the conversation.

"You have to go to sleep, Malik."

The baby closes his eyes, allowing himself to be overcome by sleep, a thread of saliva comes out of his mouth and he smiles. Raven wipes the saliva with a piece of cloth and is laughing.

"I can't believe he has that about you, too."

"What?"

"You also drool when you sleep. Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. "

"Intelligent" he murmurs.

He gathers his son in his arms, he sleeps with his head resting against his shoulder and feels his breath against his neck. It reminds of someone.

"You do this."

Raven raises an eyebrow as she folds Malik's clothes down onto a piece of furniture. "What?" She asks absentmindedly.

He clears his throat "You hide your head on my neck when we are sleeping, Malik does the same".

A smile appears on Raven's lips and she feels that she is complete.

In his past he never imagined that he would have a partner. That he would be willing to wait for her and give in, fight against the whole world for Raven. He always thought that love is an idea in collective thought, it was a deal, that if he were with someone it would be to get resources or benefits of any kind. He thought that if he had children it would be so that his bloodline would remain.

Here he is years later wanting to share his life with someone beyond contracts. Wanting to burn formalities in front of institutions and authorities, accepting this force of gravity in the form of a person that she was, holding his son in his arms vowing to protect him and would do anything to keep a smile on his child's lips like a deity promise.

"We've had so many wounds and scars," Raven whispers. Their eyes are fixed on Malik and both join their hands, intertwining their fingers. "Sometimes I feel like I will open my eyes and it will be a disaster again."

Damian says nothing but understands her. He feels the same way.

He watches his son, who is sleeping, hiding his face in his neck. His breathing is the flapping of the wings of a bird. He is so small and fragile, his chest rises and he does think that in his life he has performed acts that he has never thought about doing much more now, he leans forward and places a kiss on his forehead. Presses his lips on his forehead, feels how he relaxes in his gesture and finds himself smiling.

Maybe he would live his whole life thinking he didn't deserve this, but he's willing to explore that kind of love that couldn't hurt and makes him feel like a better person. One who would build a family and swears he won't see the same thing that marked him, in his infancy. His Malik, his child in his arms, paints his future in green and purple, just like his eyes.

Raven leans in, sighs against his shoulder and wishes she was nowhere else but here.  
***

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe and fight for justice


End file.
